


Double (Trouble) Dating

by afterandalasia



Series: Randall/Sulley Series [4]
Category: Monsters Inc (2001), Monsters University (2013)
Genre: Arguing, Awkwardness, BAMF Celia Mae, Communication Failure, Community: disney_kink, Double Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Male Friendship, Post-Monsters Inc., Post-Movie(s), Secret Relationship, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:38:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1370839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sulley only agrees to the double date if Mike absolutely agrees not to freak out.</p><p>Sadly, it doesn't work that way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double (Trouble) Dating

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mentalguru](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mentalguru).



> For the [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/9516.html?thread=5821484#t5821484) on Disney Kink, featuring Mike wanting to meet Sulley's secret partner and then freaking out when it turns out to be Randall. Fail ensues.
> 
> Set about three years post-Monsters Inc.

"But seriously, Sulley, you should come. I can introduce you to Melissa -- lovely lady, my third cousin once removed, I think. She got divorced a while back, has two great kids-"  
  
"Mike," said Sulley, "one, you need to stop trying to set me up on dates. Two, you need to stop doing it in the middle of the game."  
  
MU versus Feartech. They still watched the game out of an old sense of loyalty to MU, or possibility animosity to Feartech. Sulley had hoped that it would mark a break in Mike's weeks-long campaign to set him up with increasingly obscure relatives.  
  
"I'm only doing it because _you_ refuse to go on a date." Mike said grumpily. There was a moment's pause, then he sprang without warning from his chair, snatched up the controller, and turned off the TV.  
  
"Hey!" Sulley lunged for the controller, but Mike jumped nimbly out of his way. "What-"  
  
"You," the controller was brandished at him like a wand, "have not been on a date in the last three years."  
  
"Clarice? That wasn't a-"  
  
"And if _that_ wasn't a date, then it's been even longer! You need a social life, Sulley! Someone to support you. Other than me, I mean."  
  
Despite Sulley's slow advance, Mike had backed around the couch seamlessly, always just out of reach. Sulley gave a frustrated growl. "Mike, we have had this discussion, I am _fine_ , I do _not_ need setting up-"  
  
"Then just meet someone!" Mike paused to gesture, and Sulley pounced, scrambling over the arm of the chair and almost getting hold of the controller. He crashed into the coffee table, with a rather embarrassing yelp, as Mike dodged aside. By the time that he had rolled over, grimacing, Mike was looking disappointed but unsurprised. "Just once, Sulley! Go on one date and stop-"  
  
"I'm already seeing someone!"  
  
The words burst out of him as he untangled himself from the rug and straightened up. Mike didn't have a good answer for that. In fact, Mike didn't have much at all, to judge by the way that he was just staring, jaw agape.  
  
"You're already _seeing_ someone?" Mike finally repeated, incredulously. "And you didn't _tell_ me?"  
  
"Oh, gee, congratulations Sulley, I'm so happy for you," Sulley deadpanned. He flopped back down into his chair and sighed heavily, only for the remote to catch him on the temple. "Ow! Cut that out!"  
  
"You didn't tell me. Not once." Mike climbed onto the arm of the chair, and Sulley could see that he was heading for full-blown rant mode. Oh boy. "No, 'by the way, Mikey, I've got a date tonight', or even, 'Hey, Mike, I've been dating someone _in secret_ for'... for how long now?"  
  
There was no way that he was getting out of this one, Sulley could tell. "Not that long. That's part of the reason I didn't say anything. And," he continued, knowing that Mike would want the rest of the reason as well, "it's _complicated_. We wanted some, you know, privacy. To work things out."  
  
"Complicated?"  
  
"It means not simple, Mike. Not everyone is as lucky as you and Celia, you know." He folded his arms defensively. "We didn't want it coming out unless we were sure of things."  
  
Mike regarded him for a long, hard moment. "If it's my Mom, I'm going to kill you."  
  
"What? No! It's not..." Unable to help it, Sulley gave a snort of laughter. Mike shook his head, hopped down, and returned to his own chair. In an apparently conciliatory mood, he even turned the television back on.  
  
"Psht, look at that. You made me miss a touchdown."  
  
"I didn't turn the TV off," Sulley reminded him.  
  
And Sulley really hoped that would be that. Of course, it took less than a minute for Mike to start pushing it again.  
  
"I still can't believe you didn't tell me."  
  
"We hadn't told anyone. It's not like you were the last to know."  
  
"I want to meet her."  
  
Sulley shifted uncomfortably. "Nuh-uh. We're not at the meet-the-family stage."  
  
"I'm not family," replied Mike, not unreasonably. "I'm your flatmate."  
  
"Still no."  
  
"Look, how about you two come out with Celia and me? Double date, less pressure, they can do the girly bonding thing-"

Sulley had to close his eyes against the ludicrousness of _that_ mental image. "Mike," he said carefully, "I'm not seeing a girl."  
  
"Girl, woman, whate- oh." Realisation must have dawned mid-word. Sulley opened his eyes in rapidly-deflating hope of seeing at least _some_ of the game. "Well, that still doesn't rule out the double date."  
  
This was going to go on all evening. And probably tomorrow, Sulley figured, and the days after that, because Mike's determination was pretty much legendary at the factory by now. He groaned. "If I agree to go on the double date, will you agree not to freak out while on it?"  
  
"Why would I freak out?"  
  
It was an honest question, as if Mike hadn't yet worked out that Sulley was putting that condition in because he thought it was a possibility. "Just agree to it."  
  
"Fine, fine, whatever. Look, I'll see if I can get a table on Friday at Harryhausen's-"  
  
"No!" It turned into a yelp again, and Mike looked round in surprise as Sulley jumped up in his chair. "I mean, no, that's... well, it's an old scarer hang-out, isn't it?"  
  
"Do you have any suggestions, then?"  
  
"What about that new vegetarian place down on Ominous Street?"  
  
"If you tell me that you're going vegetarian as well, I'm going to call the cops and tell them that my flatmate's been replaced by a shapeshifter."  
  
Sulley took that as a yes, grabbed the remote control back, and settled into his chair to watch at least the last quarter of the game. At least that was going to put off one half of the problem until Friday. The other half was just going to be persuading the subject of the argument to go on the date as well.  
  
Maybe Mike had been the easier fight to pick.  
  
  
  
  
  
They'd both nearly chickened out by the time that they actually got to the restaurant on the Friday evening, although in Sulley's case it had been over talking about the whole thing in the first place. It may have been bad etiquette to stand someone up on a date, and probably worse still to stand up two people on a double date, but he had seriously considered this all the same.  
  
A hand brushed against his. Not holding, they weren't the sort to do that in public, but just a touch, looking for reassurance.  
  
"We'll be fine," Sulley said as they entered. He really, really hoped he was right about that. As a waitress approached them, he managed a smile and said, "Table, name of Sullivan?"  
  
"Right this way, sir," she said, giving him a smile full of dazzlingly white fangs and leading them towards the back of the restaurant. Well, at least they had been listening to that when he had made the booking over the phone. He wasn't sure whether the name Sullivan would be so recognisable here or not, but he had a sinking feeling that it would have been.  
  
Over his shoulder, he added, "And disappearing counts as chickening out."  
  
It was almost funny, but didn't quite manage it given the situation. Taking a deep breath -- and with a hand on his partner's back to stop them from escaping -- he followed the waitress round the corner to see Mike and Celia. They were tucked into one of the booths, saying something to each other and giggling sappily, and Sulley couldn't help but sigh. He'd never really understood the whole PDA thing.  
  
Mike glanced over as they approached, then looked again and stared. He shot to his feet, almost pushing the table away. "Sulley, look out!" He started. "Randall-"  
  
Sulley just stopped, waiting for it to sink in. He watched Mike freeze, eye going wide, then slowly sink back down into his chair again. Celia, looking shocked but managing to keep rather more composure, seemed to have caught on rather more quickly.  
  
"Is with me," Sulley finished, motioning for Randall to slide into the booth first so that he could sit on the end. There was no way he was going to risk getting stuck and making even more of a commotion than Mike had already started doing. The two waitresses were staring, as were the two other monsters in line of sight of the booth, but luckily between the discrete corner and the quiet restaurant they had not managed to make too much of a scene. He smiled. "Nice to see you, Celia."  
  
"And you, Sulley," she said, recovering her voice somewhat. He had to give her credit; she hardly missed a beat before adding, "And Randall, of course."

"Nice to see you two, Celia," replied Randall. Sulley could see him wringing two of his hands under the table, and the way that he and Mike were eyeing each other as if neither was sure that a fight was going to break out.  
  
There was another terse moment of silence, then the waitress who had shown them to their table stepped briskly over and started handing out the menus. "Here you go, sirs, ma'am. Would you like to order any drinks?"  
  
Celia was the first one to manage a reply. "I'll get the strangler fruit juice, please."  
  
"Just water, thanks," said Sulley.  
  
"Water sounds good." Mike seemed to be speaking out of the corner of his mouth, his eye still absolutely fixed on Randall.  
  
Randall still pretended to be peering at the menu, but Sulley could see the almost-frantic flickering of his eyes. He reached over and squeezed one of Randall's knees gently.  
  
"Mint tea, please?" It was just slightly questioning, but the waitress kept on smiling.  
  
"Coming right up!"  
  
She bustled away again, one of her arms swaying in time with the gentle new-age music coming through the speakers. Finally, Mike looked round to Sulley, narrowed his gaze slightly, and spoke in a tone that broached absolutely no argument. "Sulley, can we have a word please?"  
  
"Whoops, looks like he's in scare-coach mode," Sulley joked, though he rather felt as if he was going to be sick. "You two going to be okay waiting for us?" Celia nodded, her smile a little brittle, but Randall gave him a look that was outright fearful before controlling himself again and nodding as well. "Great. See you in a few."  
  
He resisted the urge to pick up Mike and haul him to the bathroom. But only just.  
  
  
  
  
  
Arguing in the toilets was, sadly, not a new low to them.  
  
"Randall. _Randall_! Are you out of your tiny furry mind?!"  
  
"Mike, you agreed not to freak out..."  
  
"Freaking out? Oh, this is not freaking out, Sulley. This is way beyond freaking out. This is ridiculous!"  
  
Sulley winced, both at the way that Mike's voice was echoing in the tiled bathroom and at the sheer fury in his friend's gestures. "I told you that it was complicated. It's been three years, Mike, and a lot has chan-"  
  
"Yes, three years since he tried to kill us. I don't know about you, but personally, I don't think that's really long enough."  
  
Mercifully, no-one else was there to hear this, Sulley thought. The last thing that he needed was for tomorrow's headline to be about the Monsters Inc. CEO arguing in a vegetarian restaurant. "Well, I'm sorry that you feel that way, but you asked for this date and now you're going to have to put up with it."  
  
"With Randall?" Mike made a cutting motion with his hand. "No way. I'm calling it off." He turned to leave, still shaking slightly in disbelief.  
  
"He's changed," said Sulley. He hadn't meant for it to come out pleading, but once he said it he realised that it kind of had. "Three years can be a very long time, Mike. There was getting him back from the human world, then the trial..."  
  
"Yes, the trial!" Mike whirled around. "The trial in which we gave evidence, Sulley. Or had that part slipped your mind?"  
  
"It's a little hard to forget," he replied. Realising that their voices were rising, he deliberately spoke with as much calmness as he could muster. "Or perhaps it's slipped your mind that you didn't stick around to see what the sentences were going to be."  
  
"Guilty was good enough for me."  
  
Sulley rolled his eyes. "Waternoose got jail. But seeing as it would be difficult to _find_ a jail that could hold Randall, the judge commuted his sentence to community service."  
  
"And you thought this was somehow a green light to _date_ the guy?"  
  
"I stepped forward to suggest that the service be done at the factory, redeveloping the Scream Cans to Laughter Cans. That machine of his could hold more power than any of the Scream Cans that had been developed, and with how strong Laughter is we needed that sort of containment."  
  
Mike rubbed his brow. "Sulley, really, dating you is not actually a community service. Trying to get you a date should have been, but dating you is not. There is no reason-"  
  
"He's not the guy he used to be," said Sulley earnestly. "I mean it. Give him a chance."

Mike looked at him with a frown for a moment, then threw up his arms. "Fine. One chance. And you're picking up the bill for this evening."  
  
  
  
  
  
"Are you okay, sweetie?"  
  
Randall glanced around at first, to see if one of the others had come back, before actually believing that Celia was addressing him. Her tone was concerned, but sweet, as she spoke to most people, and he relaxed just enough to stop his tail from slowly fading to invisibility. "Do you mean me?"  
  
"Yes, silly." She swatted his arm, so lightly that he didn't even have the reflex to change colour. "You're sitting there not saying anything and peering at that menu like it's written in another language."  
  
"Well, this evening didn't exactly strike me as the _best_ of ideas," he said drily.  
  
"I'm sure Mikey will calm down. If Sulley trusts you, that's good enough for me."  
  
Randall allowed himself a touch of a smile at the clear admiration for Sulley in her voice, the fronds on his head perking up slightly. It had taken a long discussion for Sulley to persuade him that this was anything like a good idea, or that at least meeting Mike again in a public place was less likely to turn into a scene. "Thanks," he said after a moment, feeling it appropriate.  
  
Celia murmured something, and Randall went back to trying to read the menu. He wished now that he'd paid more attention when Sulley was talking about what was available here, so that he could have just ordered one of those.  
  
"What do you think of the soups?" said Celia, the tentativeness in her voice making it quite clear she just wasn't sure what else to say to him. Well, soup was a fairly safe bet, at least. Most places had a soup of the day which he could be ordered.  
  
"It... looks good," he went for. The fuzzy black shapes on the paper were laughing at him, he was sure of it. He flicked his tail in irritation, and flipped the menu over to feign looking at the back. Glancing carefully to the side, he realised that Celia was still looking at him, a faint frown on her face. "What is it?" he snapped.  
  
She didn't flinch. "Can you... see the menu?"  
  
Randall had been many things over the years, but he'd never really managed to get all that good at lying. He shuffled in his chair and muttered something that probably wasn't even words, then jumped when Celia reached over and put her hand on his arm.  
  
"Randall, honestly? Can you see it?"  
  
"No," he said curtly. It came out clipped, and he had to force himself to not start flushing with embarrassment. "But I'm fine. I don't want to talk about it."  
  
He pulled his arm away from under her hand, and heard her sigh, but could not bring himself to look up to her face. It wasn't a case of glasses giving him away when he camouflaged, not any more. He just couldn't bring himself to wear them in front of other people, or often when he was by himself.  
  
When Celia began to muse aloud about what she might have, he had a strong suspicion that it was largely for his benefit. Despite himself, he felt grateful for her for doing it.  
  
  
  
  
  
It was Sulley who returned to the booth first, jaw tight, but relaxing into a smile as he tucked himself back onto the bench and picked up the menu again. "Nothing to worry about. We're good." Beneath the table, Randall put a hand on his leg again, and he wished that he had a spare arm to discreetly do the same. Later, he told himself; later, as well, he would thank Randall for his bravery in facing up to Mike again and letting their relationship be known, both in the same act.  
  
"Any thoughts on ordering?" he said brightly.  
  
"I'm leaning toward the urnd cheese tarte and the salad," said Celia with a smile. Bless her. Perhaps Mike had been right to invite her along, though for all the wrong reasons. "Though Randy and I had been discussing the soup range."  
  
"Randy," said Sulley. He tried not to crack a smile at that one as Randall squirmed slightly in his chair and grabbed at his drink to cradle it in two hands. "Been a while since I've heard that name."  
  
"I think it's sweet," Celia said decisively, and put her menu down. She folded her tentacles over it in a way that broached no argument, and Sulley almost laughed. He did, however, add teasing Randall about old nicknames to his list of things to do later.

"All right." Mike strode over to the booth and almost slammed down into his seat. "Rules for the night: no strangling, no kidnapping, no-"  
  
"Mike!" said Sulley and Celia at the same time, with parallel looks of horror.  
  
Randall, though, had almost coiled up in the chair, and looked angrily back. "Shall we add no illegal banishments to that list, Wazowski? Or are we going to pretend that-"  
  
"Quit it," growled Sulley, his voice a little louder than theirs. "Now, we all came here for a _nice_ meal, and I don't want this descending into a foodfight before the evening is out." Celia caught his eye for a moment and gave an infinitesimal nod, before sliding closer to Mike and running her hand up and down his back. She tilted her head towards him, and a couple of her snakes reached out to brush his skin. With Mike visibly relaxing, Sulley finally gave in and put one of his hands on Randall's side, feeling the tension running through his body. "So how about we talk, like civilised people. And no work talk."  
  
Given that all four of them still worked at the same place, it would have been rather a waste of time anyway, and he had a definite feeling that it would be more likely than even any other topic to turn into an argument.  
  
"Hey, Celia," he said. "Mike says you've been looking into learning aromatherapy. How's that going?"  
  
Actually, Mike had complained that he smelt like lavender at work, and had remained unimpressed even after Sulley had suggested that it might help his comedy routines. But at least it wasn't a topic of discussion that was likely to turn into death threats. He hoped.  
  
  
  
  
  
It was incredible how long one could drag out a conversation about aromatherapy. Or the next new car that Mike wanted. Or -- and Sulley managed not to wince when Celia asked Randall what he did in his spare time -- baking. Mercifully, by the time that they were finishing the main course, Randall and Celia seemed to be genuinely enjoying their discussion about red velvet cake, though Mike seemed to be trying to glare a hole through Sulley's forehead.  
  
Well, sharing an apartment was going to be pleasant for the foreseeable future.  
  
Despite his usual love of desserts, he figured it would be better to skip, and called for the bill almost as soon as the last piece of cutlery had been put down. He was just moving his knife onto the plate when Mike cut into the conversation.  
  
"So, Randy, what is it that you and Sulley do together?"  
  
Before he knew it, he'd bent the knife through a right angle. And he didn't react in time to stop Randall from giving a defensive reply, either.  
  
"Aside from go on dates with little monsters who ask awkward questions?"  
  
"I meant more aside from keeping secrets, but that could work."  
  
"Mike, honey, I know this is difficult-" Celia began, but it wasn't working this time.  
  
"Well, it started with apologising to each other and acting like adults, instead of picking fights all the time," said Randall. He had four hands on the table, and was apparently blissfully unaware of the hypocrisy of his words as he peered at Mike. Celia covered her face with her tentacle, and Sulley could not blame her in the slightest. "Or is it so unthinkable to you that we might have something in common?"  
  
"Yeah, I'd say you had a few things in common, most of them being fights," snapped Mike.  
  
"You know, Mike, I think that we can all agree that it's been a pretty long three years," Sulley said, stepping forward so that he was partially between them. "So how about we stop this before we make ourselves look any sillier, and you and Celia head home, hmm?"  
  
Mike had been talking about spending the night at Celia's already, and though nothing else had been _said_ , there was the clear implication that he was expecting Sulley's date to be spending the night at their apartment. Though that was, of course, before he had known who Sulley's date was. No sooner had Sulley spoken then he remembered all of this, and the way that Mike scowled meant that he had just remembered it too.  
  
"I didn't meant..." Sulley began.  
  
"No, no, it's fine," said Mike. "Do either of you want a lift?"  
  
This was leading to something, but he genuinely wasn't sure what. Sulley took a wild guess, and said: "No, it's fine. We'll walk."

Wrong answer. Mike's eye narrowed. "He knows where we live, doesn't he?"  
  
"Mike..."  
  
"He's been to our apartment."  
  
Out of the corner of his eyes, Sulley could see Randall fade out of visibility again, and given the circumstances he kind of wanted to do the same. "Yes. He has been to our apartment. Not while you were there, in case you were wondering."  
  
"Well, thank goodness he wasn't invisibly stalking me around the apartment! That makes me feel so much better!"  
  
Sulley took a deep breath and reminded himself again that Mike hadn't really interacted with Randall in the past three years. It had even taken Randall a long time to realise that Sulley was working with him out of genuine concern -- and some interest in his engineering skills and what they could mean for Monsters Inc. -- rather than some desire to gloat over what had happened. Three years could be longer for some people than for others.  
  
It didn't help as much as it should have done. "You know, maybe you should actually acknowledge that I have a brain, and that maybe if I'm dating Randall it's because he's not likely to strangle me in my sleep? Have you actually taken that into consideration?"  
  
"I think you should take it into consideration," Mike mimicked his tone, "our history with this guy. Your history! Or just his history in general! Do you _remember_ what he did?"  
  
"Yes," snapped Sulley in return. "I do. And I remember plenty else, as--"  
  
" _Boys._ " Celia's tone could have cut through steel, and both of them froze guiltily. They both turned to face her; Celia had her tentacles on her hips, and was frowning at them. Her hair only added to the effect. "Randall, reappear this instant."  
  
He faded back into view, only a few feet from Mike. Mike jumped aside with a yelp.  
  
"All three of you have been silly this evening. Arguing with each other. Sulley, not being honest about this in the first place. Honestly, this has been ridiculous. Googley-bear," she walked over to Mike and grabbed his hand, even as Randall did a double-take at the moniker, "we're going to go home, crack open a bottle of wine, and relax. Sulley, Randall, have a good evening. Sulley, I expect you and Mike to have a long talk tomorrow."  
  
Before any of them could say anything else, she turned Mike around and started marching him down the street, presumably towards where his car was parked. Sulley stared for a good long while before realising that his jaw had dropped, and closing it again. He turned to Randall.  
  
"That just happened," Randall said, gesturing after their retreating backs.  
  
"Yeah." Feeling as if all of the wind had been taken out of his sails, Sulley blinked a few times and reached up to rub his forehead. "I owe Celia a bottle of wine. Or maybe a raise."  
  
Randall slipped close enough to brush against Sulley's arm, which was as demonstrative as he ever needed to be for Sulley to start feeling at peace again. "Yeah, whatever. Let's go."  
  
He wouldn't trade that in either. Smiling, Sulley traced a hand down Randall's back, and turned his feet towards home. It really wasn't that far to walk, unlike Randall's small apartment on the far side of the city. "We'll figure it out," he murmured.  
  
Randall gave a harrumph which meant that he was pretending not to be worried, and Sulley couldn't help smiling. A lot had changed, it really.  
  
More playfully, he brushed Randall's crest, watching it flicker upwards in response. Randall blushed, fronds reddening, but didn't stop him from doing it any more. He had thought it was equivalent to ruffling hair the first few times, until Randall had admitted that it meant something completely different in the reptilian world.  
  
"Wazowski's going to set up CCTV in his room, isn't he?" grumbled Randall.  
  
"Probably. As long as he doesn't set them up in my room, I don't care."  
  
"I don't think I needed that visual."  
  
"You're welcome."


End file.
